


The Wondrous Scheme

by rxnkka



Category: ATEEZ (Band), K-pop
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Arcades, Domestic ATEEZ, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Family, Flashbacks, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Implied Relationships, Light Angst, Multi, Oneshot, Platonic Relationships, Romance, gender neutral reader, y/n
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-21
Updated: 2019-06-21
Packaged: 2020-05-16 02:50:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19309114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rxnkka/pseuds/rxnkka
Summary: It's Yeosang's birthday, and his you and the others are intent on making it up to him for forgetting it last year. You plan a trip for the nine of you at Treasure Way Arcade, where you lay eyes on the perfect gift for him standing proudly in a glass display case. As you scramble to claim the prize, you revisit the memories leading up to that wondrous day.





	The Wondrous Scheme

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Ren here with my first writing request from my followers on IG!
> 
> Characters: ATEEZ + Y/N  
> Setting: Arcade  
> Theme: Wonder  
> Language and mentions of alcohol. Oh, and prepare for heartbreak of the most innocent kind.
> 
> It's been years since I've officially written and shared fics, but I'm excited to share my work with you all. I intended this to only be around 5k words or less, but it ended up being much longer since I wrote it all in one burst of inspiration. It's simple, sweet, and injected with bits and pieces of myself that I never thought I'd share.
> 
> Enjoy, and don't forget to share your thoughts in the comments!

_450,000_.

That was the impossible number of points needed to leave Treasure Way Arcade with the Crescent 5000. The shiny piece of equipment was displayed in a spotless glass case, darker than obsidian with sophisticated appendages of an oversized alien mosquito—or a scarily advanced gadget the government used to spy on misbehaving citizens.

The Crescent 5000 was the newest of its kind, boasting cinematic video quality, an infrared shooting mode, and the option of using either a remote or hand gestures to control the path it took in the sky. The machine apparently had a mind of its own, too, and could automatically fly home whenever it was done filming. It was a pet that didn't require vaccinations, yearly checkups, baths, specially-prepared food, daily walks, or, thank goodness—a pooper scooper. All this bad boy needed was a little love and care, as well as a charger.

As soon as you saw the drone shining in all its glory in the center of the prize corner, you knew that you had to have it. Not for yourself, but for the birthday boy, Yeosang, who was halfway across the arcade with Seonghwa glued to his side.

"Woah," you murmured under your breath as you pressed your face close to the glass.

The reflection in the display case mirrored the pure wonder shining in your eager eyes. Who knew such an advanced piece of equipment would be up for grabs in an arcade?

Your group of friends had decided an outing to Treasure Way Arcade was just what you all needed after a rough week of final exams, not to mention you were all keen on “making it up” to Yeosang. The truth was, everyone had forgotten all about his big day last year until Hongjoong fished out a strawberry-scented postcard from the mail at the end of the day. 

The sender was Yeosang’s mother, who had no idea her son was rooming with a bunch of college students who ate, slept, and bathed in instant noodle packs and convenience store receipts. The nine of you had been living together since starting college, the newest addition to the crowded house being their youngest, Jongho, who still rolled out of bed at 7:30 a.m. every morning and had mini heart attacks when he thought he’d mixed up his class schedules.

You’d come back home from a long day of classes, Mingi trailing close behind you. Mingi was mumbling under his breath about how he was sure he’d failed his exam when you discovered a pile of mail sticking out of the mailbox. Your first instinct had been to glance at the living room window, which was bathed with the glow of the television. San and Yunho were probably downstairs, watching soccer or laughing their asses off at lame comedy skits you barely even cracked a smile at.The kitchen light was also on and so were a few of the ones upstairs. The whole gang was definitely home and had probably been too preoccupied with whatever they were doing to check the mail.

“Lazy asses,” you grumbled as you grabbed the stash of mail and stormed up the porch, ready to let them have a piece of you. Apparently, mail thieves were a big thing in the area, and who easier to target than a bunch of reckless college students?

“What are you so mad about?” Mingi asked, frowning as he caught up to you on the doorstep.

The porch light automatically flickered on when his towering form came near, his backpack bumping into you when he turned to grimace at the mosquitoes buzzing excitedly around you. His anime keychains jingled noisily against each other as he stood on his tiptoes to shoo the insects away.

“I’m not _mad_ , Mingi,” you clarified, “just annoyed they thought it was okay to leave our shit out for people to steal.”

“It’s not that big of a deal. It's not like we have anything to hide. At least I don’t,” he remarked.

You craned your neck to look at him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Before he could even open his mouth to speak, you stopped him. You quickly shelved the thought of stumbling across one of the guys’ Playboy magazine subscriptions—or worse.

“Nevermind. Forget I asked. Let’s just get inside before these mosquitoes have us for dinner,” you said and turned the key in the lock.

You’d ushered him in first, swatting wildly at the unwanted loiterers and hurriedly swinging the door shut with a satisfying click before they could get inside. A pleasant rush of air conditioning and the smell of home welcomed you with open arms, as well as the sight of Hongjoong coming downstairs in a loose t-shirt and sweatpants. He smiled and unscrewed an earphone when he saw you.

“You guys are back! Perfect timing, ‘cause Seonghwa’s cooking dinner,” he said.

“What’s on the menu?” you asked and casually dropped the stack of mail in his hand.

“Uh. Spaghetti and meatballs, I think?” he replied and headed towards the kitchen, casually sifting through the mail as you and Mingi removed your shoes.

Two empty slots in the neat line of shoes were already waiting, courtesy of Seonghwa. That man cooked and cleaned like his life depended on it, despite your insistence on taking over some of his workload. He’d kindly rejected your offer with the forced smile of a waitress after a customer says the steak is _still_ too rare.

“I swear we had that, like, two days ago,” Mingi mumbled to you.

"That's because we did," you whispered back.

You and Mingi had a thing where you'd talk a lot together. Having identical class schedules meant you left the house together, went around campus together, and returned home together. Together, together, together. That was Mingi's favorite word, and it gained even more meaning when he was together with you. If there was anyone who had grown extremely attached to you over the years, it was him. The others liked saying he was a big baby, but he was mature for his age.

You guys could talk about any and everything and could trust that it stayed between the two of you. Most of that talking happened on the commute to and from the house. The morning was reserved for all of the good things, like how good of a rest you got the previous night, what exciting video game news he woke up to, or how all of the water the two of you had been religious drinking did wonders for your skin.

Nighttime was reserved for venting about bad grades, the annoying habits the other guys had, or traumatizing high school memories. Boy, did you and Mingi always have a lot to say at night, hoping to get out all of the negativity before you stepped into the doors of your shared home.

The two of you had ranted on your way back that night about Seonghwa's recent affinity for spaghetti and meatballs. According to Mingi, Seonghwa had been watching a lot of vlogs from an Italian chef. It was a ridiculous and hilarious thought, but Mingi had been dead serious when he said the Italian chef had kidnapped Seonghwa overnight and brainwashed him to cook nothing but spaghetti and meatballs for weeks.

"Maybe Mingi was right…" you muttered under your breath. "I swear I'll go crazy if we go through another day of spaghetti and meatballs." 

“Did someone say spaghetti and meatballs?” 

A high-pitched voice, belonging to San, called from the living room. Just as you’d expected, he and Yunho were curled up on the couch with a bag of Doritos and two cans of iced tea, watching one of their late-night talk shows. 

“Oh! Y/N, you’re back!” San exclaimed and rushed over to give you a hug. 

“Don’t I get a hug, too?” Mingi whined. 

“No,” San retorted, cradling you in his arms from behind. 

"Hey. Give Mingi a hug," you ordered. 

San sighed and offered his other arm to the tall boy. Mingi beamed, waddling into the man's unwilling embrace. You noticed Wooyoung in the corner of the living room playing games on his phone, while Jongho was belting his lungs out to country music somewhere in the dining room. You could hear the sizzle of the pan and smell Seonghwa’s delicious homemade dinner from the kitchen. The entire crew was here—all except for Yeosang, who you vividly remember saying would be home today. 

“Hongjoong, where’s Yeosang?” you piped up, moving San’s surprisingly muscular arm from your chin as Hongjoong stopped in his tracks. “Hongjoong?” 

“Wait. What day is it today?” he had asked, a colorful postcard wedged between his thumb and index finger. 

“June 15th,” Yunho said, then went back to laughing at his TV show. 

“Isn’t June 15th…” you trailed off, unable to complete the sentence on your own. 

Your heart literally lurched when Hongjoong whirled around to look at you with an equally horrified expression. 

“... Yeosang’s birthday?” 

It was that evening when you came up with the idea to book a reservation for Treasure Way Arcade. A year in advance, at that. The whole lot of you had felt so guilty about forgetting Yeosang’s special day that you were eager to make it up to him any way possible. That meant everyone bought their gifts months early, scheming with each other to find something perfect for their very special boy—everyone but you. 

They all assured you being the ringmaster of the day’s events was more than enough, even Yeosang himself, but you thought otherwise. Call it your guilty conscience or a desire to spoil someone to death, but you wanted to get him something more. Something that screamed him. 

And there it was—the Crescent 5000 drone, standing proudly in a display case like an artifact in a museum. You knew how much Yeosang loved drones after discovering he'd subscribed to a magazine solely about them. He kept all of the volumes in his book shelf with a toy model of one and wouldn't let anyone but you and Seonghwa near it.

You'd caught the boy wishlisting some of them on Amazon a couple months ago, though he'd quickly closed the tab when he realized you were in the room. That was a habit he'd developed during middle school, when people would poke fun at him for his interests. At the time, it was space and alien conspiracy theories. 

450,000 points—was that even possible? You certainly didn’t think so, not with a measly 40,000 points accumulated from a handful of trips to Treasure Way over the past two years. 

“Ugh… I should’ve thought ahead,” you said with a defeated sigh. 

Jongho, who had been checking out whoopee cushions and shock pens in the corner, glanced curiously at you. 

“What’s up?” 

“I want to get this for Yeosang, but it costs 450,000 points,” you confessed with another huff. “C’mon. It’s perfect for him, isn’t it?” 

Jongho whistled under his breath as he eyed the drone up and down.

“Yeah. Definitely. Want me to take a crack at the case? I’ve broke open a melon before, so this shouldn’t be that big of a deal,” he remarked, cracking his knuckles. “I break the case, and you take the chopper and run out the emergency exit while I distract them. Easy.”

You immediately grabbed his hands when you saw that he was dead serious. His eyes widened as you tightened your grip on them like a pair of handcuffs. This was the second time in your years of friendship that you'd done such a thing. The first time had been at his high school graduation, after you handed him his bouquet. The eight of you had flocked around him, along with his family members, for photos, braving the onslaught of other graduates and their family members in the crowded space.

"Flowers? For me?!" the boy had exclaimed with a gasp, his round face glistening with the makeup his mom insisted on putting on him.

"Yeah. Pretty, aren't they?" Mingi piped up with a toothy grin. 

"Totally. You picked them out for me, didn't you, Y/N?" Jongho asked. "Aww. You didn't have to." 

"Actually, it was—" 

Jongho had thrown his arms around you before you could complete your sentence, his powerful hug squeezing the air out of your body. You saw Seonghwa and Yeosang shooting you sympathetic looks as your life flashed before your very eyes. You could hardly move, much less breathe, so you could imagine your expression resembled that of a choking cartoon chicken. Wooyoung giggled to himself, pointing at you and whispering something in San's ear that made him snicker like a frat boy. Whatever they were saying about you, you sure as hell didn't want to know. 

"How cute is that? Jongho, Y/N, look over here!" Jongho's aunt called, smacking her lips and snapping as if trying to catch the attention of wayward puppies. 

You had both looked at his "auntie," and Jongho had brazenly lifted you up and spun you around. You never screamed, but that night, you had screeched at the top of your lungs, yelling at him to put you down. In your blurred surroundings, you realized Yeosang had plugged his ears shut, though you could make out the softest of smiles on his face. 

Yunho and Hongjoong recorded the chaos as Jongho finally let you down. You nearly toppled over, unaccustomed to your new shoes and still reeling from your unwilling dance with Jongho. The graduate had laughed heartily, preparing to pick you up again when you'd grabbed his hands to stop him. The other boys took this opportunity to flood in, piling on top of you two for a group hug and teaming up to lift Jongho's stocky body in the air. 

The chaotic memory buzzed in your mind as you slowly released Jongho's hands and turned your attention back to the Crescent 5000. The retro arcade music playing in the arcade drowned out the vivid coos of Jongho's aunt buzzing in your ear. 

“Break the case? You trying to get arrested or what? And it’s a drone, not a helicopter,” you corrected him. 

Jongho shrugged. 

“Same thing.”

“Okay. Whatever you say,” you replied, realizing you weren’t any closer to your goal than you were a moment ago. "You've been awfully helpful."

He shrugged nonchalantly and returned to doing his own thing. You sighed and turned to your second resort.

“Hey, Wooyoung?” 

“Yes, baby?” he answered with a delectably sweet voice.

You whipped around, only to find your attractive companion wearing a ridiculously colorful and large pair of Elvis sunglasses. You snatched it off his face, ignoring the light burn in your cheeks at the ridiculous nickname. You’d be crowned World’s Biggest Liar if you said Wooyoung didn’t make you flustered simply by breathing.

“D-Do you think it’s possible for us to get this for Yeosang?” you demanded in an unintentionally gruff voice.

He raised his brow at you for a moment before moving to admire the drone. He eyed it, stroking his chin before tossing a glance at you over his shoulder.

“Nope.”

“Well, gee, thank you very much,” you said in your most depressing Elvis impersonation ever and resisted the urge to roll your eyes at him.

Wooyoung felt his resolve crumbling when he saw the disappointment written across your face. If there was anything his serious self was weak to, it was your sad face. You'd discovered that in high school, when you sulked after he refused to share the popcorn chicken his aunt had dropped off for him for lunch. As soon as you'd turned away with a frown, he offered you the whole bag but snapped at the others like a rabid dog if they so much as dared to look at it. Ever since then, you knew exactly what you had to do to get Wooyoung to bend to your will.

The only other person he caved in to was Yeosang. The two met during middle school P.E. class, when Yeosang sprained his ankle during a soccer game and needed to sit out for several classes. Wooyoung had also sprained his the week before after thinking it would be cool to try to do a backflip off a bench at lunchtime. The injured benchwarmers sat on the bleachers, completing an article summary as a makeup for their missed physical activity. It was dead silent for half the class period before Wooyoung asked him what day it was, and their friendship formed from there on out.

You'd heard the story from San, who grew a big mouth after a few drinks at Jongho's graduation party. The gossip had gone on about Wooyoung and Yeosang being "misfits or whatever," and that was why they'd bonded so well. Yeosang had actually been the one to introduce you to Wooyoung shortly after this time. The two of you never got along, acting like hissing cats whenever Yeosang turned away. Especially Wooyoung. The kid would send dirty looks your way every chance he got and acted like you were an itch that wouldn't go away. 

"You know what? I've had enough of your shit, Wooyoung. You're so full of yourself," you'd snapped at after catching him glaring at you throughout lunch. "What's your problem? I never even did anything to you."

"Yeah, except get in my way every chance you get," the boy spat. "Why are you even sitting with us, anyway? Don't you have your own friends to hang out with?"

You bit your lip then, remembering how your previous friends had ditched you after allowing themselves to get sucked into a more popular crowd. You'd recognized the signs when they refused to be seen with you in the halls, and then they went so far as to pretend like they didn't even know you.

You'd spent countless lunches on your own, wandering around the campus in search of a place where you wouldn't be judged for being a loner. You hated the damn word, but that was what you were. Snarky underclassmen made sure you knew it, too, muttering the term under their breaths as they passed.

It wasn't until Yeosang spotted you sitting alone under the stairs of the administration building that he'd invited you to join him and Wooyoung. Unfortunately for you, the territorial Wooyoung didn't take kindly to the sudden intrusion into his perfect friendship.

“Why does it matter who my friends are?” you demanded.

“What're you being so defensive about. What, don't tell me you're a loner?”

_Loner._

The word stung and unearthed memories of your teachers giving you pitying smiles when they saw you hiding under the stairs at lunch or realized nobody had chosen you as a partner for group work.

 _He's right. I really am nothing but a loner, aren’t I?_ you wondered.

Wooyoung's mind short-circuited as soon as you lowered your head, hot tears pricking your eyes. The painful wounds reopened, and you found yourself sobbing uncontrollably in your seat. He stared at you for a few moments, his mind a blank slate. He'd never made someone cry before, let alone someone so important to his only friend.

He never forgave himself for that, even if you assured him that it was in the past. Even if the two of you still acted like hissing cats to one another, there was a boundary he would never cross again. He couldn't stand the thought of ever making you sad again, and you saw that same regret tugging at his expression in the middle of Treasure Way's prize corner.

“Okay. _Maybe_. If we want the drone, we’re gonna need some serious man—I mean, people power, though,” Wooyoung admitted when he realized you were being completely serious. “How many points do you have?”

“40,000, so I’m short 410-freaking-thousand.”

The number itself was enough to give you a headache. That was the absolute last thing you needed, considering you'd had loud music blaring in your ears for the past few hours. Not to mention you could still hear Jongho's auntie snapping at you to look at her.

Wooyoung took out his phone and punched some numbers in. You couldn’t help but notice how quickly his fingers moved across the screen. A seasoned gamer he definitely was.

“So each of us would need more than 60,000 points each to have enough combined,” he mused. “All of us have _something_ in our cards. If we play for a couple of hours, we might have enough. That’s if we play smart.”

You couldn’t help but worry about the playing smart part. You remembered how San had been doing exaggerated stunts on the Dance Dance Revolution machine just to make girls laugh or how Jongho had nearly broken the strength test meter after slamming the mallet down hard enough to make the ground shake.

“Are we even allowed to combine points?” you inquired. 

Wooyoung shrugged. You felt your shoulders deflate as you stared at the Crescent 5000. The wondrous little metal alien was so close, yet so far away. The temptation to accept Jongho’s offer to break and take pulsed strongly within you like a forbidden power. All you had to do was say the word, and you’re sure he would actually do it. Too bad jail existed.

“I’m sure they’d be willing to let us if we asked nicely,” Wooyoung assures you, placing a hand on your shoulder. “Let’s get Yunho to do it. People like him.”

The two of you tore apart the arcade in search of Yunho and found him playing air hockey with Mingi. 

"Yunho!" you shouted, waving your arm at him. "I got somethin' for ya!" 

If Yunho had floppy ears, they would be bouncing with excitement right now. He loved helping people, and he especially loved helping you. He wasn't always the brightest, but he had an upbeat personality and positive mindset that kept him afloat when things got tough. He was the one who convinced Mingi that it wasn't worth dropping out over one or two bad grades and the one who constantly built your confidence after you got a bad haircut. 

He even went so far as to buy you nice hats and helped you style your hair on bad mornings. When San so much as opened his mouth about your choppy bangs, Yunho stuffed a bagel in the boy's mouth and sent him on his merry way. 

"Really? What'd you get me?" Yunho chimed with the big grin you'd grown to adore. 

"Did you get me something too?" Mingi inquired with a little bounce that made you want to pinch his cheeks. 

"Sorry, Mingi, but this is only for Yunho. It's a mission," you answered. 

"Oh. Okay," Mingi replied with a slight sag of the shoulders. "Can I help?"

Wooyoung stepped forward, prepared to shut him down, but you held him back with a firm hand.

"Sure. You can be his sidekick for it. I need the two of you to ask if we can pool our points together for the prize corner. There's something I want to get for Yeosang." 

"Leave it to us," Yunho assured and slung his arm around Mingi's shoulders. 

The two tall and handsome boys painted a pleasing sight for your eyes. 

You and Wooyong sent the inseparable duo to the front desk of the prize corner, watching from the distance the bored clerk’s expression immediately lit up upon Yunho’s bright smile. That smile alone was sweet enough to give you cavities and melt even the iciest of hearts. Meanwhile, Mingi turned and waved at the two of you in the perfect sidekick fashion. You felt your heart melt when he mouthed your name. 

The pair soon returned, and Yunho let out a soft huff as he glanced back at the prize corner. 

“She said it’s against the rules to combine points.” 

You and Wooyoung began to deflate. 

“ _But_ she also said she could add them together. Just because it’s Yeosang’s special day and the drone's been sitting in there for months."

Mingi nodded, adding, "Apparently, her manager's been bugging her to get rid of it, so there's that.”

You and Wooyoung popped back up with gleaming grins.

“Yay! Let’s get it for him, then! We gotta let the others know,” you said and began to form a new group chat sans Yeosang, who you wanted to surprise.

Hopefully, the boys would be able to keep a secret for the next few hours. You would have to personally make sure they did that, and that would be a difficult task, considering there were seven of them you needed to proctor.

 _Anything for Yeosang_ , you told yourself, saying a brief prayer before committing yourself to the task.

Your phone blew up with messages from the others, all agreeing to help with your ambitious plan. San sent a photo of his impressive 69,000 points and attached the message, “Don’t worry, babes. Got you all covered,” and a winking emoji he reserved for you. Seonghwa apparently only had 25,000 points racked up, so San’s big number somewhat made up for it. Overall, you all had a long way to go.

Yunho placed his hands on his hips.

"What're we gonna do, then? Split up and play 'til we drop?" he asked.

"Sounds about right," you answered with a laugh.

"Alright. I'm down."

"I dunno, guys. That's a lot of points," Mingi mused. "I think we're better off getting him something else."

"Hey, hey. We don't know if it's possible until we try, right?" Yunho said. "Let's see how it goes, and if all else fails, I'm sure we can make something work."

"Well… Okay."

"That's the spirit. Let's do it for Yeosang, okay?" Yunho encouraged and winked at you.

You mouthed a "thank you" to him, unable to ignore the gentle thrum of your heart.

Yunho was so _chill_. There was no other word to describe him but that, and you had realized that a long time ago. Yunho had asked you to high school prom, preparing an expensive bouquet with a handmade sign with a witty fandom joke about your favorite band. That was the moment where you knew you had to say yes to him no matter what, and you did. The two of you were undeniably the hottest pair at prom, though he definitely stole the spotlight with his star-filled eyes and bright smile.

Prom had actually taken place in the ballroom beside the Treasure Way Arcade, so the two of you had snuck out while prom royalty was being announced to play some games together. It was late in the evening at the time, so the arcade was mostly filled with college students or middle-aged, drunk men looking to pick up hot girls. You and Yunho stuck close, weaving through the crowd towards the photo booth at the far corner of the arcade.

Everyone in the arcade was drunk off of beer and cocktails, but you two were drunk off of the energy you gained from one another. If there was anyone whose company was addicting, it was Yunho. He exuded good vibes only, and you ate it up like it was your only life force. That night, you realized more than ever that Yunho was the heart of your friend group, his optimism keeping everyone afloat with sweet words and an ever sweeter smile.

"Yunho, the photos are going to be expensive," you had pointed out, grimacing at the price printed on the inside walls of the photo booth.

"It's cool. It's a one-time thing, anyway," he assured you, running his thumbs over your knuckles. "Besides, it comes with two copies. I'll put mine in my wallet, and you can put yours in your clear phone case."

He'd pointed at your phone, which then had a photocard of your bias from your favorite band on it. You blushed a bit, moving the photo out of sight. What would your bias think of you if he found out you'd taken another guy to prom? Not that your bias even knew you existed, anyway, but it had been an amusing, passing thought you had.

"C'mon. It's starting," Yunho had announced excitedly and pulled your shoulders closer to him.

You followed Yunho's lead for all of the poses. Most of them were goofy and sweet, just like him, while others were fitting for your gorgeous looks for the night. In your daze, you hadn't realized that you'd kissed Yunho on the cheek in one of the pictures. Neither of you even remembered that had happened until you left prom and bumped into the others, who were wondering where the hell you two had run off to. Jongho had been the first to notice that the photocard in your phone case was gone, and in its place was a film strip of you and your handsome prom date. The little weasel had snatched your phone from you and showed the others the one of you kissing Yunho's cheek.

You couldn't remember what happened after that, just that it involved a lot of screaming, laughing, and teasing. You still had the photo in your desk somewhere, and you caught a glimpse of it in Yunho's wallet just as he put his point card back in there.

 "Y/N, what's wrong? You look a little spaced out," Yunho said and motioned in front of you.

 "Oh. Sorry. I just..." 

He glanced in the direction you were looking at and noticed it was none other than the photo booth, which had long since been remodeled. He smiled shyly as you cleared your throat. 

"A-Anyways, guys. Get going. We don't have time to waste," you instructed, avoiding Yunho's gentle gaze.

Wooyoung glanced between you and Yunho, his lips pulling into a thin line as he forced himself to look away.

"Yessir!" Mingi exclaimed and saluted you.

"Thanks. Let's go, Wooyoung," you blurted out.

You then hastily dragged Wooyoung to the bowling alley, conscious of stares from other arcade goers. You were used to getting looks by now, as they were included in the package when you decided to have eight attractive guys around you all of the time. You weren’t bad-looking yourself, so the nine of you altogether made the perfect eye candy for hungry eyes.

"Where are we going?" Wooyoung asked with a hint of annoyance.

He had planned on hanging out with Yeosang, who he noticed heading towards the zombie shooting game with Seonghwa a few moments ago.

"Bowling. What, you scared I'm gonna own your ass at this?" you retorted with a grin.

"Hmph. In your dreams, baby."

You laughed to yourself as you swiped your card on the bowling machine. Challenging the man was a surefire way of keeping his attention, and his attention was something you couldn't resist in moderation. A line of bowling balls rolled out towards you. You picked one up, trying not to grimace at its weight, and aimed for the pins, which seemed a football field’s distance away. You remembered knocking them all out in one go before, so you were sure you could do it again. 

“Just gotta move my arm a little bit to the left, and… A-ha!”

You confidently released the ball with a powerful swing, the smug grin disappearing from your face when the ball lifted off, sailing through the air and landing with a loud thud in the center of the lane. An ugly dent in the ground reared its head as the ball sauntered into the gutter and out of sight.

You glanced to your right, where Wooyoung was busy knocking the pins out with ease. It wasn’t fair that he was naturally gifted with a dancer’s strong muscles and amazing coordination. His gaming addiction didn't help you feel any better about yourself when it came to challenging him in his element. You felt a sulk making its way into your expression as you attempted to compose yourself.

 _Like Yunho said, Y/N. Do it for Yeosang. Do it for_ him.

You took a deep breath and reached for the next ball. You watched Wooyoung for a bit, then recreated his form. Sure enough, you were able to knock out a handful of pins this time, and you were confident you’d only get better at it.

“Curl your arm a little bit more, Y/N,” Wooyoung suggested. “Like this.”

He approached you from behind, taking your shoulder in his left hand and your right arm in his other. The sudden contact made you jolt, your back colliding with his firm chest—one you’d caught a glimpse of one evening after he’d come downstairs after a shower with nothing on but shorts and a wet towel draped over his shoulder. You swallowed the lump in your throat as he adjusted your posture, completely oblivious to the improper image forming in your mind.

“Make sure you get some proper momentum before you let go of the ball,” he instructed, his voice unusually deep. “And don’t let go too early.”

“A-Alright. I got it. Thanks,” you stammered. “Can you let go of me now?”

The last thing you really wanted was him to let go of you, but if he stayed like that any longer, your face would just about combust. He knew it, too, and let out a chuckle as he leaned in to whisper in your ear.

“You sure about that, Y/N?”

His hot breath sent a chill down your spine.

“I-I’m sure!” you practically yelled, and he slowly moved away. “You’re annoying, you know that?”

He laughed, and you were sure he’d say something like, “You love me the same, don’t you?” but the remark never came. Either that, or you were too focused on how loudly your pulse raced in your ear as you aimed for the pins to hear another word from him. You concentrated all of your effort into this last roll, making sure you remained in the form he put you in as you released the ball. While you didn't want to disappoint him, the more competitive side of you insisted on showing off that you could be just as good as he was.

A loud cry tangled itself in Wooyoung’s throat as he watched the ball make a beeline for the pins. You knocked them out in one go, your points inching forward and putting you one step closer to the Crescent 5000. Your points flashed proudly on the scoreboard directly beneath Wooyoung's. You were far from being his match, but you'd put up a good fight nonetheless.

“Damn. Look at you go,” your handsome opponent mused. “Nice one, Y/N.”

As you accepted his high-five, you noticed Seonghwa and Yeosang approaching you. Yeosang looked nothing short of silly, with a lopsided birthday hat on the top of his head, along with a flower crown Hongjoong had painted for him and a bright, yellow halo that San had insisted he wear all day, even if it poked uncomfortably against the ceiling of the car. Mingi had written the number 21 on his cheek in bright blue paint, while Yunho, Seonghwa, and Jongho decked him out in the same type of leis his auntie had gifted him during graduation. If Yeosang was graduating anything, it was the period where his birthdays were just another day to him. The anniversary of his birth mattered now more than ever, now that he had eight best friends to celebrate it with.

Your contribution to the boy’s birthday costume was a tiny heart sticker on the tip of his nose. You’d put it there as he walked out the door that afternoon, saying it was a representation of how everyone felt him. He’d smiled shyly, like he did the first time you met him, tapped the sticker to make sure it was secured, then squeezed into the car with the others. It was unbelievable how quickly your heart melted from that simple gesture alone.

You and Yeosang had known each other the longest out of the nine of you altogether. The two of you met in elementary school through your parents, who had gone to high school together. Yeosang had been extremely shy then, barely speaking a word to anyone, much less you. He always hid behind his dad's leg, ducking his head with the faintest of smiles whenever you would wave at him and invite him to play hopscotch with you and your cousins.

"Yeosang's very shy," his mother had told you with a loving sigh. "Hopefully, you can help him open up a bit."

That you did, though it took years of effort from both you and Yeosang to make your unusual friendship work. By the time you were in high school, the two of you were practically family, though there was still so little you knew about him. He had his own friend group and you had yours, but the groups eventually merged to form the one that comprised the little family you now shared a home with. Just imagining your life now without the eight of them dealt a painful blow to your chest.

 _I guess it all started from me and Yeosang_ , you thought. _I'm glad we never gave up on each other._

Seeing that once wordless little boy decked out in everything you’d all prepared for him made you grin from ear to ear. Yeosang was just _that_ adorable. You were going to take so many pictures of him later with his birthday cake so that you could send them to his mom and have them developed. You had planned ahead and arranged with your photography professor to borrow his lab to print a canvas of the nine of you. What better photo than a family one for your angel's special day? You'd even cleared out a place in the living room to display it.

Yeosang could look at it whenever he passed from the staircase towards the back porch to ride his skateboard. He could admire it across the room from the comfort of the loveseat, where he often curled up with his homework, his favorite tunes blasting in his ears. Just the thought of him looking up at the canvas and fondly recollecting of his special day was enough to make your chest implode on itself.

 _Damn. I really love the kid, don't I?_ you thought as you smiled fondly at him.

You swear you could see the faintest shade of pink tinting his cheeks as he returned the gesture.

“So? How’s the gaming coming along?” you asked.

Seonghwa slung his arm around Yeosang’s shoulders and deftly avoided crushing the birthday boy's fancy leis.

“Good. Yeosang’s still as good as ever at the shooting games,” the older replied with a gloat.

He had so much pride in Yeosang that it was almost like they were father and son, rather than close friends.

“Hmph. He's good, but I guarantee that I'm even better," Wooyoung remarked with a cute pout. "Why didn't you guys wait for me to join you?"

“You were too busy with Y/N, anyway,” Yeosang retorted with a playful lilt in his voice.

You thought you heard an actual hint of jealousy in Yeosang's voice, but he looked as composed as ever. Your lips went dry at the thought of him being envious because of you. There was no reason for him to be, right?

"Was not," Wooyoung claimed, though he was red up to the tips of his ears. "Let's go for a Round 2, yeah?"

Wooyoung succeeded in pulling Yeosang away before either you or Seonghwa could interject. You'd hardly gotten a chance to speak to the birthday boy the entire afternoon and had hoped to spoil him a little, but Wooyoung was up to his usual antics. If you didn't know any better, you'd think the two had a thing. Even if they did, you'd be the last person in the world that Wooyoung would tell. He was awfully secretive whenever it came to Yeosang, and you never understood why.

"Um… So…" Seonghwa muttered.

"So…" you echoed.

Left alone together, you exchanged awkward glances, unaccustomed to it being just the two of you. If there was anyone in the group of friends you weren't that close with, it was Seonghwa. You got along just fine and even had some fun memories together, but the others were always around. Always.

One of the only times you could remember where it was just the two of you was Jongho's high school graduation. The boys had all scattered when you'd reached the school, eager to grab last-minute gifts and revisit places they spent their high school days at. Before you even realized everyone had gone off on their own, Seonghwa lightly tapped your shoulder.

"Um, should we buy one of those bouquets? They're actually pretty cheap," Seonghwa proposed. "I don't know if he likes flowers, but I don't want him to be the only one without them."

"Sure! They're pretty," you said and reached for your wallet.

A gentle hand laid across your wrist before you could, Seonghwa flashing you a dizzyingly handsome smile that made you fall a little in love with him.

"I got it," he assured you and approached the booth.

Your heart skipped a beat as you watched him go, noticing how his long-sleeved dress shirt was a bit too tight on his broad shoulders. The girl working at the booth froze when she saw him, her eyes widening when he leaned towards her to point out exactly which bouquet he had his eyes on. She watched him walk off, a glimpse of longing in her eyes when she realized he was with you. An accomplished smile tugged at the corners of Seonghwa's lips as he presented it to you. Your heart fluttered with the excitement of a would-be bride as you stared into the depths of the bouquet, noticing how fresh the flowers smelled and how fitting they were with your outfit.

"Thanks," you'd blurted out, giddy at how smooth the wrapping paper crunched between your fingers.

He cocked a brow, the smile on his face threatening to slip away.

"For buying it, I mean," you hurriedly added. "We could've split it."

 _Ah, so that's what you meant_ , his expression seemed to say as he nodded.

"No worries. I should be paying for this stuff, anyway. I'm the oldest of the nine of us," he explained with a mixture of pride and resentment. "We should look for the others. I think they're opening the doors to the stadium now."

"Right..."

You could feel his urgency to regroup with the others, and you couldn't blame him. You longed for the safety of the chorus of voices and laughter, too… but another part of you wanted to be alone with him for a little longer.

That was almost a year ago. You two had come close to being alone when the boys went out for the weekend, leaving the two of you to keep watch over the house. The two of you stuck to your sides of the house, Seonghwa burying himself in his studies while you fumbled to throw the house into order when you found out your parents would be making a surprise visit.

When Seonghwa heard their voices, he immediately came out of his room to greet them and offered to prepare a meal. Your parents, who had no idea you were living with such a handsome, capable young man, looked at each other, you, then back at Seonghwa, who had his head lowered in a half bow.

Half an hour later, the four of you were seated in the dining room, your parents sharing embarrassing stories about you while Seonghwa awkwardly laughed them off, sensing your discomfort. You'd excused yourself to get some water, and Seonghwa had followed closely after, eager to get a chance to talk to you.

"Um, sorry for making it so weird," he apologized. "I can leave if you want. I'll just say I have to go to work or something."

You swore you fell a little more in love with him after that, and maybe you did.

Seonghwa now wore the same, apologetic smile on his face now as he had that day, and you realized that he didn't feel bad for himself—he felt bad for _you_. You couldn't even fathom as to why he would feel that way, but you wished he didn't. Something came over you, and you grabbed his hand in yours, leading him to the other side of the arcade.

"W-Wait, Y/N." 

You ignored his protests, your heart skipping a beat when he eventually laced his fingers between yours and followed your lead. You didn't have it in you to look back at him, but you could imagine his face was a pretty shade of red. 

As your frantic eyes darted around the arcade, you took all that it offered you: from the colorful lights emanating from the retro-themed machines, the clinking of virtual coins as starry-eyed players racked in points, the exaggerated sound of bullets passing through zombies, the smell of french fries and fruity drinks, and the warmth of Seonghwa's hand in yours. A group of children raced past, saying whoever reached the prize corner last was a rotten egg. The sight of them reminded you that you, too, were here with your best friends, all who seemed to be having the time of their lives. 

Wooyoung and Yeosang tried to outscore each other on the zombie shooting game while Yunho, Mingi, and Jongho shot hoops, updating the secret group chat with their points. You could tell that Mingi was already losing steam, as he kept leaning against the machine with the same sag in his shoulders that he had when he found out his favorite manga was discontinued. San and Hongjoong were… 

Where _were_ San and Hongjoong? 

The last you heard from either of them was in the group chat, and that was a while ago. When you reached for your phone, you felt two hands roughly grab your shoulders from behind. You screamed louder than you thought you were ever capable of. Your fear quickly morphed into anger when San's shrill laugh filled your ears. The little shit spun you around to face him, his amused expression a stark contrast to yours. 

"Aww! Did I scare you, Y/N?" he asked with an undeniably sweet and dimpled smirk. "I couldn't help myself when I saw you holding hands with Seonghwa." 

You realized you'd gotten separated from Seonghwa, who crossed his arms over his chest like nothing had ever happened between you. San eyed him for a passing moment before tugging you towards him so that he could sling his arm over your shoulder and tousle your hair. The feeling of his bare arm against you was strange, but not entirely uncomfortable. You could tell his early-morning and late-night workouts were definitely paying off and weren't entirely sure how you felt about that. 

Hongjoong jogged towards the three of you and paused to catch his breath. 

"Why'd you run off so fast?" he asked San and nudged him in the shoulder. 

"Don't ask me. Ask Seonghwa and Y/N," the little devil replied with an innocent giggle.

It was the same giggle he'd let out after Jongho presented the photo of you kissing Yunho for everyone in the group to see. Apparently, San had actually been the first one to point out the photo to Jongho, who then grabbed your phone and showed everyone else. You weren't entirely sure how true that was, but San insisted up to the present that he really had known about the photo before anyone else did. He confessed this to you after you two had drinks together to celebrate a partner presentation you two had aced together. 

"I knew you two were up to no good when I saw you guys sneaking off when they were announcing prom royalty," San had said as he took another sip of his homemade cocktail. "If you'd stayed, you would've gone up on stage with the rest of 'em." 

"I could care less about something like that, especially if it means lumping me with the same people who treated me like I was invisible," you argued, the pain of your friends abandoning you leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. "Those kinds of titles are meaningless." 

"To you," he replied. "I wanted to see you up there." 

You fell silent then and stared at your half-empty cup. 

"Aren't you gonna ask me why?" he continued. 

You'd refused to answer, so he told you of his own free will—or rather, an alcohol-encouraged one. 

"I saw you guys leaving, so I followed you out. I was planning on stopping you only 'cause I knew you two were gonna be on the list, but…" 

Your chest tightened when he suddenly trailed off and listlessly stirred the contents of his drink. This was the most mature and serious than you had ever seen him, and you suddenly became aware that he knew exactly what he was saying and only wanted you to think that it was the alcohol talking. The realization made you swallow hard. 

"... You and Yunho looked so happy, so I just let you go. I just... gave you up." 

You weren't sure if he was admitting he'd followed you into the arcade or if he meant he'd stopped halfway after seeing the two of you sneak out of the ballroom. You probably would never know, not unless you asked him directly, and you were afraid to find out the answer. 

His gaze had lingered on you for a moment longer than you were used to before he let out a soft chuckle. 

"Anyway, good job today, Y/N," he said and put his drink down. "You should go to sleep. It's late." 

You had a feeling he wanted to say more, but he eventually turned his back to you and left you alone in the dining room with nothing but your thoughts and a cup of half-consumed alcohol. You wound up dumping the drink and going upstairs, then being unable to sleep the entire night. 

You hated that San stared at you the same way now, with that wistful, expectant gleam in his pretty eyes. Except that this time, rather than waiting for you to confess why you had snuck out of prom with Yunho and kissed him on the cheek, he was waiting for you and Seonghwa to confess that you were holding hands. And for what? So that he could hear it coming directly from your mouth? 

Neither you nor Seonghwa showed any indication of doing such a thing, so Hongjoong sighed. Your chest twinged when San looked away.

"Well, how many points do you guys have? I just reached 35,000," Hongjoong admitted with an embarrassed chuckle.

"I just hit 73,000," San chimed proudly, affectionately stroking the top of your head. 

You hated to admit how good it felt in contrast to the uncomfortable tug at your heart from a moment ago. 

"I think I had almost 50,000 the last time I checked," you said with a sense of shame. "Can we all do a point count now? It's been half an hour already." 

Hongjoong combed a hand through his bright red hair, the simple gesture enough to make your heart skip a beat. He noticed your eyes on him and smiled, then looked away with a confident quirk of the brow. Your chest tightened when he leaned against you, pulling up the group chat for all of you to see. If your pulse wasn't racing a marathon, it certainly was now, especially when Seonghwa came close too. 

The cherry-haired boy dropped a message in the group chat inviting everyone to send an update of their points. Altogether, the eight of you barely passed 300,000 points. Your heart plummeted. You still needed 150,000 more, and who knew how long that would take? 

You wanted to collapse against Hongjoong and say that it was about time you guys gave up on getting the Crescent 5000. It was just a faraway dream, just like your aspirations of becoming a renowned doctor and Hongjoong's of becoming a famous composer. The two of you had shared your personal ambitions with one another one night while cramming for your economics final together. The boys had long gone to sleep at the time, leaving the two of you alone with only Hongjoong's desk lamp and your textbook to keep you company.

It was well past 2 a.m., and you still had half of the textbook left to go through. The stress piled from your other classes had given you a hell of a week, making simple tasks like remembering what you had for breakfast a major challenge. Not to mention the fact you had over a hundred terms to go through and several equations to memorize for this particular final.

You and Hongjoong had been at it since the afternoon, stopping only for restroom or snack breaks. Your mind grasped desperately to implant Rostow's Modernization Model and Marxist theory into your memory for tomorrow morning so that you could discard it right after. But nothing stuck, and you felt like you lost yourself more and more the later your studies bled into the night.

Hongjoong had tapped the side of his head with his pen and turned to the third page of your 6-page study guide.

"Name the steps of Walt Rostow's Modernization Model," he instructed.

You leaned back in your seat, your back cracking loudly as you let out a sigh. After hours of leaning over a textbook, your entire body was as stiff as a board.

"Uh… The first one is a traditional economy, the second is…"

"Mhm. You're on the right track," he coaxed with an expectant smile.

He was always so positive and encouraging, no matter what the circumstances were. You loved and hated it at the same time.

"Traditional and… um…"

The longer he stared at you, the more you felt your restraint slip away until you finally lost his gentle expression in a muddled blur of tears. You shut your notebook and buried your face in your arms, hoping he hadn't noticed. You felt stupid for being unable to remember something that you'd been studying the entire semester. If you couldn't commit such simple terms to memory, how could you even dream of passing the final? 

"Y/N?" he'd whispered softly. "You alright?" 

You shook your head, keeping your face planted in your notebook. Your body shook with uncontrollable sobs as the stress bore down on you in a merciless wave. Hongjoong remained motionless for a moment before laying a reassuring hand on your back. That had been enough for you, and you moved to bury your face in his shoulder. You thought things would get better, but they only got worse because _he_ started crying, too. You had never seen Hongjoong so much as get sad in all the years you'd known him, so something just broke inside when you felt him tremble against you. 

The two of you had cried in each other's arms for what felt like hours before you found out he had given up his dreams of being a composer to follow the path his parents had paved for him. He couldn't bear the thought of disappointing them, so he had decided to major in law instead. You begged him to reconsider, but you knew his circumstances were more complicated than you could imagine.

Besides, you had given up your childhood dream of becoming a doctor when you went to college, too. Medical school just wasn't a possibility for you or your family, so you had settled for psychiatry instead. Making that decision crushed something inside of you that couldn't ever be repaired again, but you had grown to accept it. 

You were beginning to also accept that walking out with the Crescent 5000 was an impossibility. Unless one of you hit a jackpot, you would have to spend a lot of money to play hundreds of games to make it even possible. 

"Maybe we should give up." 

The words left your mouth so quietly that you almost didn't register that you'd even said them. 

 _Give up? Those words don't even exist in my dictionary_ , you'd told Hongjoong after picking up your notebook again that night. After all of the tears, you two had convinced one another that your pasts didn't define you and that there was always hope for success and happiness. All you had to do was try. The two of you ended up studying until morning, and you'd left that classroom with the highest grades in the class. 

All of the hard work was worth it. It was worth not giving up. 

"We're not giving up," San said. "You want to get that for Yeosang, right?" 

You nodded. 

"Then we're gonna get it for him," San continued. "Got it?" 

"Got it."

You felt the strength return to your body when he gave you a dimpled smile and ruffled your hair. 

"Let's get going. Yunho, Jongho, and Mingi wanna spin the point wheel." he announced. "I bet you one of us is gonna hit a jackpot, and I think that person is gonna be _me_."

"No. It's going to be me," Seonghwa retorted, giving San a playful shove. "You know I have the best luck at this stuff."

"Says the guy with 25,000 points in his account."

"It's 27,000 now."

"Ooh, what a big difference."

You and Hongjoong couldn't help but laugh at the boys' back and forth. They had already stormed off ahead to the point wheel, where Wooyoung and the decked-out birthday boy had also gathered. Everyone's eyes mirrored the colorful wonder of their surroundings, their bright smiles filling your heart with joy. You felt yourself melting into a puddle of goo at the adorable sight.

Hongjoong noticed you falling behind and turned back with a curious quirk of the brow.

"You alright?" he asked with the same tenderness of that tear-filled cram session.

You nodded, and he smiled at you and offered his hand with a gentle smile.

"C'mon, Y/N."

 "Yeah."

You laid your hand in his, allowing him to lead you towards the others. On your way there, your eyes caught the Crescent 5000, which glinted in all its majesty from the prize corner. A competitive smile found its way onto your expression as you gave it one last hard stare.

_Give up? Those words don't even exist in my dictionary._


End file.
